


Tell Me About Your Childhood

by Darky_Parky



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, Comedy, Dialogue Heavy, Flashbacks, Fluff, Gardener Aziraphale (Good Omens), Gen, Godparents Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), I'm Bad At Summaries, M/M, Nanny Ashtoreth (Good Omens) - Freeform, One Shot, Slight spoilers, Warlock goes to a therapist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-05-16 19:59:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19325068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darky_Parky/pseuds/Darky_Parky
Summary: Ten years after the world didn't end Warlock finally decides to go see a therapist to talk about his childhood. Specifically about a certain gardener and a nanny.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic was based off three Tumblr posts by demonic-mnemonic, ariaste, and cactusrabbit.

The therapist sat across from the young man, scribbling away at her notepad while Warlock fidgeted with his hands. He didn't like silence, made him feel like something was wrong.

But, lucky for Warlock, the therapist finished her note and looked up at Warlock. "So, Mr. Dowling, what made you come here today?"

"Could you not call me by my last name? It makes me feel so much older."

"Alright then. Warlock. What made you come here today?"

Warlock took a pause. "Well, a lot of weird stuff happened when I was a kid and I. . . I don't know who else to talk to about it."

"You came to the right place then, Warlock. Tell me, what was this 'weird stuff'? Where did it begin?"

Warlock took in a deep breath before laying down on the sofa. "It all started when I was five. My dad was off doing. . . whatever he was doing and my mom was too busy with press and wrangling my father to deal with me. So, they hired a nanny. But, she disappeared for some reason. So, they hired another nanny."

* * *

The old woman smiled sweetly at the young Warlock.

"Oh, he is precious, truly," she said to the tired mother. The old woman approached the small child before crouching down. "Hello, Warlock. My name is Mrs. Ashtoreth. I'm your new nanny."

 _"Mrs. Ashtoreth babysat me that day. When my mother left the first thing we did was have lunch. Ashtoreth told me to wait in the living room while she made my meal._   _But, I didn't listen to her. Instead, I hid in the dining room and watched her from the doorway._ "

Ashtoreth's head was currently in the fridge, perusing the different options. After a few moments she pulled out what seemed to be a random set of ingredients and set them on the counter. "Alright, this can't be that hard," she muttered to herself. 

Gathering a frying pan and a spatula, she set to work. Ashtoreth piled in the ingredients making an unholy amalgamation of food before placing the frying pan onto the stove. She turned it on at a much too high of a setting and began pushing the ingredients around with the spatula. The smell was awful. However, it did not linger long.

The pan somehow erupted into flames. The fire alarms began to go off, black smoke was filling the air and Warlock began to panic. The only thing that didn't make him run to call for help was the nanny's expression. She didn't seem concerned at all. She just seemed mildly irritated. So, Warlock did not think of it as a big deal.

 _"What I'm about to say is. . . crazy. But, I promise you, I saw it with my own eyes._ "

Nanny Ashtoreth snapped her fingers and in place of the flaming disaster was a grilled cheese sandwich. She smiled sweetly and called Warlock to lunch.

_"Of course I was curious as to what had just happened. So, during lunch, I asked:"_

"How can you do that?"

Ashtoreth beamed at Warlock. "With the power of darkness. You can do anything with the power of darkness, Warlock."

_" 'The power of darkness'?" asked the therapist._

_Warlock shrugged. "That's what she said to me._ "

_"And what did you think of this?"_

_"Nothing at the time. I was five, I would believe anything an adult would say to me._ "

_"Did you perhaps talk to your parents about this incident?"_

_"Of course I did."_

"Nanny Ashtoreth said that I can do anything with the power of darkness." Warlock's mother lazily nodded. She was very tired, you could see that from the dark circles under her eyes.

"Uh-huh."

"Nanny Ashtoreth also said that a spoonful of poison puts my enemies in the ground in a most delightful way."

"Mhm."

_"And where was your father at this time?"_

_"With President Bush. Every once in a while he'll call us or face time us, but other than that, I didn't see my father much."_

_"Then how was your relationship with Mrs. Ashtoreth?"_

_"Uh, fairly close I would say. She was one of my biggest parental figures as a kid."_

_"One? Was there more?"_

_"Yeah. A little while after Nanny Ashtoreth showed up, my parents hired a gardener."_

"Over here is the living room. I doubt you will be in here much other than to assist the maids and butlers every once in a while." The servant continue to lead the southern gardener toward the next room in which Nanny Ashtoreth and Warlock were seated, playing Monopoly.

"Have I told you I met person who made this game? Lovely woman - very easily manipulated."

"Oh! Young Master Warlock. Didn't expect to see you here," said the servant.

The gardener beamed at the two. "Ah, so this is the Warlock I've been 'earing so much 'bout!" The gardener walked up to the child, crouched down and held out his hand. Warlock took it and the gardener shook it with enthusiasm. "My name's Francis, but people like to call me Brother Francis."

"Why's that?" asked Warlock.

"'Cause I am kind to everyone I meet. As if I were their very own brother." Brother Francis smiled eagerly at Warlock before glancing over at Nanny Ashtoreth. "And who is this?" Francis stood up and walked over to the nanny. Ashtoreth stood up and gave her hand to the gardener, a genuine smile on her face as Francis brought her hand to his lips. 

"That is Mrs-"

" _Ms._ Ashtoreth. I'm Warlock's nanny."

"And a fine nanny at that. I've heard the name Ashtoreth quite a lot."

Ashtoreth shrugged. "I do my best. And what of you, gardener? Do you also have a reputation?"

Brother Francis waved a dismissive hand. "Ah, nothin' like the good Lady Ashtoreth."

_"You didn't find it odd how these two seem to know a lot about each other even though this was supposedly the first time they have met?"_

_"I was five. Did you ever think that deeply when you were five?"_

_"Yes I did. That's why I got into psychology."_

_Warlock shrugged. "I suppose that's fair."_

_"Let's get back on track. What was this gardener like, Warlock?"_

_"The exact opposite of Mrs. Ashtoreth."_

Brother Francis told Nanny Ashtoreth to take a break and let him take Warlock outside. Brother Francis had told the young boy that he was going to show him the flowers. Flowers that had not existed until the gardener had showed up.

Warlock was shown great rows of flowers all of different shapes, sizes, and colors.

Francis chuckled at Warlock's silent amazement. "Beautiful, aren't they?"

Warlock nodded before looking up at the gardener. "How much did you yell at them?"

"Pardon?"

"Nanny Ashtoreth said that the only way to grow proper plants is to yell and belittle them."

Brother Francis shook his head as he crouched down to tend to the flowers. "Don't listen to her. You can't raise something out of hatred. Hatred spoils the soil. But if you give something love and attention. . ." The gardener pointed at a yellow tulip that wasn't yet in bloom and before Warlock's eyes - it grew, "it will grow to be something beautiful."

_"So, the gardener made a flower grow before your eyes?"_

_"Less weird than Mrs. Ashtoreth sizzling in church."_

Francis reached into one of his pockets to pull out a small trowel. He looked over the mass of flowers before standing up. He looked down at Warlock and smiled. "Young Master Warlock, would you mind fetching me a pot? I'd like to bring a flower back to Ms. Ashtoreth."

"Why?"

"Sometimes you don't need a reason to do something nice for someone."

 _"Everything was pretty normal up until we got back to the house. Mrs. Ashtoreth was cleaning her glasses._ "

Nanny Ashtoreth sighed. "Only five more years of this-"

"Ms. Ashtoreth!" Francis greeted.

Ashtoreth jumped slightly, looking over at the two with her yellow eyes.

_"Yellow eyes?"_

_"And pupils like a snake's. I swear to you, doc."_

_"Perhaps she was wearing contacts or-"_

_"Who would wear contacts like that when it's not Halloween?"  
_

_"Accidentally put those in instead of her usual ones?" The therapist was stretching and she knew it._

_"Then why the tinted glasses all the time?"_

_"Okay, okay. Continue your story, please."_

_"It's not a story."_

_The therapist nodded. "Yes. Apologies. Continue."_

"Sorry if we startled you," Francis apologized as Ashtoreth put on her glasses once again.

"It's not a problem. Where did you get the flower from?" she asked, gesturing to the potted daffodil.

"From the garden," Francis explained with an odd wink.

"Ah, of course. I had forgotten of the garden. Seems to be in good condition. How much did you have to yell at it?"

"Not at all!" Warlock exclaimed. "Brother Francis said that love and attention will grow into something beautiful."

Nanny Ashtoreth smiled what seemed to be forcefully. "Hatred will give you the same result. Besides, it's good for your health. Clears the mind and the conscious."

"But, lovin' and nurturin' makes friends and miracles."

Ashtoreth laughed. "Ah, but if you nurture something too much it may take advantage of you and stab you in the back."

"That's only true in some cases, don't let that discourage you, Warlock."

"However, you are welcome to encourage it."

Brother Francis shook his head, grinning. "Lady Ashtoreth, you are troublesome one."

"And you are a non-troublesome one, Mr. Francis."

"Is that a bad thing?"

Nanny Ashtoreth smiled. "Not necessarily." Warlock looked between the two. They were looking at each other weirdly.

Francis cleared his throat. "I should get goin', I have a lot o' chores to do." Brother Francis handed Nanny Ashtoreth the potted flower. "That's for you, Ms. Ashtoreth. Please be gentle on this one."

Nanny Ashtoreth smiled sweetly. "No promises."

"Alright then. I'll see you 'round, Young Master Warlock."

"Bye, Brother Francis," Warlock said with a wave.

Nanny Ashtoreth watched as the gardener left and waited until he was out of ear shot. "Come here, dear. Let me show you that yelling at your plants will give you better results."

_"It seems the two were battling for you to agree with one," identified the therapist._

_"Or even me out."_

_"How so?"_

_"Maybe with one filling my head with evil and the other with good they hoped to even out my morality."_

_"That would suggest they were working together."_

_"Well, they did seem to know each other."_

_"Do you think this affected you in the long run?"_

_"Not really. After they both left I just. . . grew up normal. As normal as a son of an ambassador could be."_

_The therapist looked to the clock before turning back to Warlock. "We are cutting it close on our time, Warlock. Is there anything you'd like to get out before I give you my insight?"_

_"There is one more strange incident that comes to mind."_

_"Go ahead then."_

_"It was the day they left. I was ten years old and therefore 'too old to have a nanny' as my dad put it. I was sitting in my bedroom, reading a book Brother Francis recommended to me. I heard talking outside my window and. . . I looked out."_

On the porch was Nanny Ashtoreth and Brother Francis speaking in. . . odd voices.

"I am glad to finally be rid of this disguise, but I'm going to miss dear Warlock," said Francis.

"We'll see him again next year."

"And after that we'll never see him again."

Nanny Ashtoreth shrugged. "I mean maybe. There is a chance we messed it all up and sped up the process."

"Why must you always be so negative?"

"I was put in hell for a reason, angel."

Francis sighed. "Do you truly think that we helped?"

"I think we did a hell of a job." Nanny Ashtoreth paused. "As in we did good."

"Odd saying," Francis muttered.

"I've taught that kid everything I could without breaking him. . . probably and so far he hasn't killed anybody. So, I'd call that a success."

"Let's hope."

From her pockets Ashtoreth pulled out her car keys. "I'm thinking about lunch, you?"

"Oh, but shouldn't we say goodbye to Warlock first?"

Ashtoreth stared at the gardener for a long moment. "Why?"

"We've been raising him for five years. Don't you care about him?"

"Angel, you know there's only one person on this planet I care about."

"You sat in a church for two whole minutes for that child."

"And then I set the parking lot on fire."

"You gave him one of your plants."

"It had a leaf spot."

"Crowley, you almost let him drive your Bentley."

Ashtoreth opened her mouth to speak only to close it. "Okay, that was one instance-"

"Crowley," Francis grabbed Ashtoreth's hand and smiled kindly, "let's go say goodbye."

Ashtoreth huffed. "Alright. But I'm only doing this for you."

Brother Francis chuckled. "Of course, dear."

* * *

"Well, Warlock," the therapist spoke, taking off her glasses, "we're out of time. I would like you to come back next week so that we can discuss more on your childhood."

Warlock sat up. "Really? That's it?"

"For now. That is if you continue to come and see me."

"Don't you have anything to say about what I just explained to you?"

"Of course I do. But, we're going to save that for next week."

Warlock stared at the therapist as if she had grown a second head. "Okay. . . . See you until then, doc."

"I'll see you until then, Warlock." Warlock grabbed his satchel and exited the office, walking out into the hallway.

He didn't feel satisfied. He went to that office to get help and all he did was rant about his childhood. What a rip off.

As Warlock stepped out into the parking lot to find his car a jet black Bentley sped in front of him, nearly running him over. There were three things in which the young man noticed as it did so.

One: much like Back to the Future, the car left behind fiery tracks which should not be physically possible. Two: Queen's "Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy" blasting from the speakers. And finally three: the screaming man in the passenger seat. More specifically the name he screamed.

"CROWLEY!"

Warlock watched as the car screeched off, hearing the passenger's screams as it went. Warlock paused, looking at the fiery tracks before walking back into the doctor's office.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here is the second chapter! This one is a little less comedic, but I think it's very sweet. I hope you guys enjoy this.

It was a gloomy day in downtown London. Warlock was driving through the streets, still not satisfied and not happy. He had just been thrown out of his therapist's office for not only bursting in during another patient's session, but threatening them with his supposed power of eternal darkness. He really didn't mean to threaten, it was just something he said subconsciously.

Warlock had come here to get answers, he was born here after all. Well. . . not here, but Tadfield. However, Tadfield didn't really interest Warlock. It seemed as if nothing really goes on there. So, Warlock went to London instead, it's only an hour drive away from Tadfield after all.

Warlock quickly snapped out of his thoughts at the sight of a jet black Bentley heading toward him at a ludicrous speed. Quickly, he jerked the steering wheel to the right, getting out of the way just in time. 

He watched as the Bentley zipped by before turning around and follow it. That was the same Bentley that nearly ran him over at the therapist's office. 

What was he going to do when he finally caught up to it? Warlock's not bothering with that now.

The Bentley was slipping away from sight. Warlock took in a deep breath and remembered what Mrs. Ashtoreth used to tell him.

_"If people didn't want you to use the whole speedometer then why give you the option?"_

Warlock hit the gas, catching up to the Bentley and receiving a number of rude gestures from other drivers. But just as he was closing in, it stopped in front of a bookshop. 

Warlock quickly found a parking spot near the Bentley and here should be the next part of Warlock's plan were he to think that far ahead. He couldn't simply walk up and say: "Hey, when I was five I had a nanny with the same Bentley and same name as you. You aren't perhaps related to her in anyway?" But, he couldn't let the driver get away without any answers either.

So, Warlock decided he would watch the Bentley. If anyone comes out, he'll follow them and try to get information from them. Was that creepy? Yes, but surely, it must be worth it.

A moment passed and soon a small man came out of the passenger's seat. He was dressed in somewhat outdated clothes that were very light in color. The man himself was rather plump and had strikingly blonde hair. He seemed disheveled, yet he was smiling.

He was talking to the driver whom still remained hidden. The passenger nodded, leaned his head into the car momentarily before departing and waving the driver goodbye. The man walked away from the car toward a nearby bookshop, leaving the door opened. Without the driver reaching over to the door, it slammed shut on its own and the Bentley drove on.

So, what Warlock could conclude from that is that even if these people aren't anybody who had anything to do with Mrs. Ashtoreth and Brother Francis they are extremely strange. Strange enough to investigate farther.

On a whim, Warlock got out of his car and walked toward the bookshop the Bentley's passenger just entered. Gripping the strap of his satchel, he took in a deep breath, preparing to enter.

A small bell announced his entrance as he pushed the door open. The blond was putting some books on the shelves and didn't turn to see who was at the door.

"Martha, dear, I told you that you can have my Oscar Wilde's when your ex-husband- Oh!" Finally, the bookshop owner turned to see Warlock. "Oh, hello," he greeted with a kind smile. "How can I help you?"

"Um. . ." yet again, not something Warlock really thought through. "My name is Warlock. Warlock Dowling. I was wondering if you knew anything about someone named Crowley?" Warlock saw the smile fade from the man's face. He sighed. He knew this was a bad idea. "I'm sorry. This is. . . stupid. I'm going to go-"

"Warlock!" the passenger abruptly called. Warlock paused, turning toward the man. "I have a couch in the back. Go sit down there and I'll make some tea."

Warlock raised an eyebrow. ". . . You're not going to murder me are you?"

The shop keep was very taken aback by this. "What? No! Of course not!" Warlock narrowed his eyes. "I am not a murderer."

"That's exactly what a murderer would say." 

"Well, I'm sorry, dear boy, if I come off that way. But, I assure you, I mean no harm to anybody." Warlock still didn't feel comfortable going into the back of a bookshop with a stranger, even if they have answers. "If it makes you feel any better about it, I could pull out the ottoman and place it here then we could talk. But, it is more of a risk. If someone happens to barge in they may get their hands on information that they shouldn't know about."

Warlock felt weird about this, but he's come this far. 

The young man made his way into the back of the bookshop where the couch was as promised. It was completed with throw pillows and folded up red blanket. Warlock took a seat on the couch to find that it was much more softer than he initially thought. He relaxed a bit at this.

Moments later, the blond man came in with two cups of steaming tea. "That was quick," Warlock commented as the shop keep handed the cup to him.

The shop keep smiled. "Almost like a miracle, isn't it?" He sat down in a cozy little chair across from the couch.

"I don't think I caught your name."

"My name is Aziraphale. But, you may call me Mr. Fell if that is easier for you."  

Warlock nodded before taking a sip of his tea. "So, who is Crowley?"

Aziraphale raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You. . . don't know?"

"It's kinda what I came here for. A lot of weird stuff happened when I was a kid and I just want to know what's going on."

Aziraphale nodded. "Of course you do." He paused, taking a sip of his tea. "Well, I am willing to explain everything. But, I must ask you to bare with me. What I am about to say to you is rather. . . bizarre."

Warlock nodded in understanding. Aziraphale took in a deep breath, setting his cup of tea on a nearby desk. "Okay. Well, Crowley is a demon and I am an angel." The shop keep took a moment to make sure that Warlock was still with him.

"Was that what you meant by 'almost a miracle'?"

The angel seemed a bit surprised. "You. . . believe me?"

"I saw my family's gardener bring my rabbit back to life. Five times. Angels and demons aren't exactly bizarre to me."

"Well, suppose that's fair."

"Please, continue." Warlock took another sip of his tea and continued to listen to the angel.

"Me and Crowley are supposed to be enemies, but obviously we are rather bad at that." Warlock watched Aziraphale fidget with a silver band on his left ring finger. "Have been for over six thousand years." Aziraphale cleared his throat. "Anyway, twenty years ago the apocalypse was just beginning."

Warlock choked on his tea. "Excuse me?" he got out through coughs.

"The apocalypse. A part of the 'great plan'." The way he said "great plan" was almost like the term itself left a sour taste in his mouth. "The Antichrist was on Earth and Crowley had the job to deliver it to a group of Satanic nuns-"

"Satanic nuns?"

"The nuns have been planning the Antichrist's arrival for decades. Hell had already set them up near an airforce field in Tadfield. A perfect place for an American ambassador's wife to give birth."

"Why would they want that?"

"The plan was to switch the Antichrist with the ambassador's child. Supposedly that would enforce the child to be evil."

Warlock's heart sank as he began to form his theory as to where this was going. The angel continued. "However, two very kind people named Mr. and Mrs. Young came in, also with child. One mix up lead to another and the Antichrist went with the Young family and you went with the ambassador."

Warlock paused for a moment. "So. . . my parents aren't my parents?"

Aziraphale shook his head. "No they're not. Your real parents are Mr. and Mrs. Young."

Warlock was strangely okay with this information. "Huh."

"However, heaven nor hell knew that we mixed up the children. And since me and Crowley aren't much more competent than our coworkers we thought that you were the Antichrist. Though, unlike the rest of heaven and hell, we were not thrilled about the apocalypse. We loved Earth and we didn't want it to end, nevertheless go to war with each other. So, we thought of a plan to prevent Armageddon. We would both go in and take care of the child in hope to make them neither good nor evil."

Warlock finally understood and everything began to make sense. "So. . . you. . ."

Aziraphale smiled kindly. "Nice to see you again, Young Master Warlock." A smile tugged at Warlock's lips. "We have much to catch up on."

* * *

"What exactly happened after Armadde. . . wasn't?" Warlock asked.

"Me and Crowley were still in trouble with heaven and hell, but we easily put that to rest with a little help from Agnes Nutter. Life went on as normal after that. Adam and his friends have grown to be normal adults. And there were numerous of weddings." Aziraphale smiled fondly. "Oh, I still remember Crowley, hopping down the aisle," he reminisced, mostly to himself.

"So everybody basically lived happily ever after?"

"Yes. However, Crowley thinks that there will be another war," Aziraphale said, shaking his head in disapprovingly.

"Really?"

"Yes, he thinks that one day heaven and hell will go against humanity. But, of course, heaven and hell would have to agree to work together first and I don't think that's going to happen any time soon."

Warlock opened his mouth to express his concern with this theory when the bell to the bookshop door rang.

"Aziraphale!" Soon, a red headed man came sauntering in, dressed in all black with a golden band on his left ring finger. Warlock immediately recognized him. He was Mrs. Ashtoreth. "You didn't answer my calls."

"Oh, I'm sorry, dear. I was going to finish up here and come home, but Warlock decided to drop by." 

Crowley finally looked over at the young man and raised an eyebrow. "Warlock? Warlock Dowling?"

Warlock smiled widely. "Nice to see you again, Crowley."

"I filled him in on everything," Aziraphale explained.

"Everything?" Aziraphale nodded. "Even his parents not being his real parents?"

"Yes."

Crowley turned back to Warlock. "And how are you taking that?"

Warlock shrugged. "It doesn't really matter to me. I wasn't raised by them anyway."

"And you believe everything about angels and demons being real?"

"It honestly makes more sense. You two weren't really good at being humans."

Crowley shrugged. "Not our fault humans are so complicated."

"You never ate."

"Not in front of you."

"You constantly used miracles."

"Kids believe anything."

"I once said 'bless you', you caught fire and brushed it off as 'allergies'."

"Technically, I wasn't wrong." Warlock laughed. He's missed this. Crowley paused, before clearing his throat. "Well, this has been fun catching up, but we better get going. Come on, angel."

"Oh, already?" Aziraphale seemed disappointed at this, but got up - if a bit reluctantly as Crowley disappeared.

"Apologies, Warlock, but, we do have plans for the evening. Come by the bookshop anytime if you ever want to talk again, okay?"

"Sounds good, Aziraphale."

Aziraphale smiled. "I'll see you until then, Warlock." The angel left Warlock and he frowned slightly at the abrupt departure. Though, at least it wasn't like his therapy session. He grabbed his bag and got up from the couch, making his way to the exit.

"Crowley, don't you want to say goodbye?" Warlock paused, listening in behind a massive bookshelf.

"Why?" There was pause then a sigh and Crowley came sauntering back. The demon walked up to the young man and stared at him for a long moment. Crowley brought Warlock in for a hug. "Take care, Warlock." Crowley pulled away. "And remember, if you have second thoughts about being a good person, you can always talk to me." He patted the surprised Warlock on the shoulder.

With that, the demon and the angel left the shop. And for the first time in what felt to be a very long time, Warlock was happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and criticisms are always accepted

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing this! And watch out I may be thinking about adding a chapter to this one shot!  
> (Oh, btw if you wanna comment then comment they are heavily approved)


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